


versipelli caelis

by Katarin



Category: Bandom, Bandom: Panic at the Disco, Bandom: The Young Veins
Genre: M/M, Space Werewolves, Werewolves, space
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-22
Updated: 2010-08-22
Packaged: 2017-10-11 05:14:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,822
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/108799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katarin/pseuds/Katarin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryan's a werewolf Prince desperately trying to prove himself. Jon's a lonely werewolf searching the galaxy for a home. The one with the Space Werewolves.</p>
            </blockquote>





	versipelli caelis

"So you're Jon?" Ryan asks, eyeing the man with the dark hair and beard. He's wearing flip-flops even though a ship-yard isn't exactly the place for them and he's radiating his status. Between his posture and the way he smells he might as well have "lesser wolf" tattooed on his forehead.

"That's me," Jon tells him, nodding his head low enough to expose the nape of his neck. Ryan's a bit surprised he knows even that much protocol. It's the less grand show of submission than he'd be expected to show if they were in his father's court, but as much as they can get away with in public. Ryan reaches out, touches his shoulder in the discreet signal that he can stop and sit up straight and then Jon's looking up at him. His eyes are a deep brown, oddly open, as though Ryan wouldn't hurt him.

Even after all these years, Ryan still doesn't know how to react when people, his father's people, treat him with this kind of respect. They don't even know him and yet they look on him with the adoration that Ryan's father assures him is merely his due. Jon's still watching him, grinning and looking altogether thrilled to be meeting him.

"You're going to have to stop that," Ryan tells him. "Preferably _before_ we interact with people who might ask about it?"

Jon nods and looks away, nodding at a few stacks of crates. "That's them. That's our precious cargo," he tells Ryan.

"They're in stasis, right?" Ryan knows it's a terrible question, but he has to make sure Jon's held up his responsibilities.

"Yes, your majesty." Jon looks back for just a moment to duck his head in a short sign of obedience. "Just as commanded."

"Please call me Ryan," he whispers, looking around and hoping no one else overheard that. "You never know who's listening."

"Of course, your... Ryan." There's another obedient bow of his head but Ryan doesn't bother with correcting it. They won't be in contact for much longer.

"Is it safe? To keep them there for the duration of the trip?" Ryan's looking at the crates, wondering again at how they came to be here. He has no doubt his own father didn't have a problem with it, but he knows others don't feel the same. The kitchen maid who'd stopped him in the hallway shortly after he received his mission, for instance. Nothing in her tearful well-wishes and prayers for luck in the ancient tongue of their kind had made Ryan think her the sort to be okay with any of this. And yet she had agreed to it.

Jon shakes his head. "No, Ryan. They can stay in stasis for as many as six days but it's best if we check on them every four. Any signs of distress or damage and we'll have to find some way to react immediately." Jon holds up some sort of communicator. "This allows me to monitor them from afar."

"You'd better hand it over, then. I suppose it's my responsibility now." Ryan tries not to sound frightened when he says it but it's difficult. He's never been good with... with this.

"Sir? I mean, Ryan?" Jon asks, his face the picture of perplexity.

"The... them. I'm responsible. I'll need that, right?"

"Ryan I don't... you're in charge of the mission. I'm in charge of the cargo," Jon tells him. Ryan just blinks at him.

"Wait... what?" Ryan asks, because that can't be true.

Jon looks a bit uncomfortable, shifting away. "I was told you were in charge of our mission and that I was to answer to you in my care of the cargo. Was I... was I misinformed?"

"So you're going to do the..." Ryan gestures ineffectually and Jon nods.

"Yes. I was told you weren't really... that you didn't prefer that sort of duty?"

Ryan smiles and shakes his head. "Someone mentioned me being complete crap at it, didn't they?"

"Ummm," the way Jon looks away and blushes gives it away.

Ryan waves him off. "They weren't wrong, Jon. I guess I'm glad to have you around." Ryan looks around the shipyard and licks his lips. "Did you get the funds I wired to you? Are we ready to go?"

Jon nods. "I booked us passage on one of the fastest ships in this quadrant of space, Sir." Jon does his bowing head nod and Ryan reaches out to touch the back of his wrist.

Jon's head jerks up and Ryan shakes his head. "You need to stop that. The deferential head-bowing thing. We can't attract suspicion, okay? We need to just act like we're regular guys."

Jon nods. "Right so... right." Jon takes a deep breath and nods in the direction of one of the larger ships in the ship-yard. "That's our ride, we should probably talk to the captain and stuff before we get on."

"She sure is pretty," Ryan tells him, gazing up at the intricate detailing etched into the outer hull.

"I thought so too," Jon answers. "I mean, not in the usual way but she's got character and the engineer assures me she's faster than almost anything."

Ryan looks over at Jon, not believing what Jon's saying. "I think she's gorgeous," he says.

"Well thanks," another young man says from the where he's leaning against a pile of crates. "Our Captain will love to hear you appreciate her." The man leans forward and his dark hair slides forward into his eyes. "He's really attached to her. I'm Brendon, by the way; ship's mechanic." He holds out his hand and Ryan takes it. He likes Brendon's handshake, firm without trying too hard. His father had always told him that a handshake said a lot about a man.

"I'm Ryan and this is Jon," Ryan tells him and Brendon nods.

"We'll help with your cargo, we've got the equipment for that but you'll have to carry your own baggage. The Captain always says we're not a pleasure liner and he's got a point. You two okay with that?" He's addressing both of them and usually that would be odd, someone talking to Jon when Ryan was right there, but he's been preparing for this for weeks now and it barely even registers. He congratulates himself silently while Brendon walks them towards the ship. It's huge, dwarfing all of them and Ryan looks up in awe-

Until Brendon steps up the ramp of the smaller vessel that Ryan had assumed was some sort of refueling ship or a ground transport.

"Oh, this is the ship?" Ryan asks.

"Yeah, this is the _New Perspective_," Brendon says, patting the outer hull lovingly. Ryan frowns and Jon leans in front of him to pat the hull as well.

"She's gorgeous!" Jon tells him, smiling. "Great set of port nacels on her."

"Aren't they? We found them at auction a few systems back, practically new, a real steal-"

"Brendon," a voice cuts in and when Ryan looks up, there's another brown-haired young man. This one's taller with a moustache and beard. "Why don't we save the tour and ecstatic explanations of where everything came from until _after_ our new passenger's cargo is all stored away?"

Brendon nods and throws a sloppy, sarcastic salute his way. "Sure thing, Captain." Turning back to Jon and Ryan he nods in his direction. "Gentleman, meet Captain Smith. Captain, meet Jon and Ryan. You three get acquainted and I'll get to work on getting the bots to bring in your cargo."

Captain Smith looks hard at Ryan, "Do I know you?" he asks.

"No?" Ryan answers. Certainly this Captain Smith looks familiar but Ryan's been moving around the galaxy since he was ten years old. Everyone looks familiar after a while.

"My mistake, sorry." Captain Smith holds out his hand for Ryan and they shake before the Captain turns to offer his hand to Jon as well. That's what jogs Ryan's memory. Captain Smith exposes his neck, looking down because Jon's so much shorter than he is and the wind sends his scent towards Ryan.

_Spencer_. He remembers Spencer, remembers his parents working on the estate where Ryan lived on Geminus. That was until The Alliance became far too interested in the guests his father invited into their home. He remembers playing around the stables with him and hiding in the woods and pouncing on each other from low-hanging branches. Then Ryan's father had sent the Smiths away with the rest of the staff when they closed the estate. He won't ever forget the way Spencer smelled though and even though it's been years and it's not exactly the same, it's close enough for Ryan to recognize him.

"Ryan?" Jon calls and when Ryan turns, they're both heading inside. Jon has his luggage.

"Thank you, Jon," he says, catching up to them. Jon looks embarrassed. "For carrying my bags. I was a million miles away for a second there. It's kind of you to carry my things." Now Spencer's the one looking confused but he also clearly doesn't care very much because he pushes past both of them, up the ramp and into the cargo bay. When they get inside, Brendon's messing with the controls for their Cargo-bot. Ryan doesn't recognize the specific model but it's hard not to recognize the giant mechanical arms and sturdy base and torso structure that all Cargo-bots have in common.

"This is obviously the cargo bay. You go up these steps and through this hallway-" Spencer doesn't slow down for them to get a close look at the cargo hold, just continues on up the stairs with the obvious expectation they'll follow him and since Ryan has no idea where their quarters are, they do. "Here's the kitchen and right through here is your quarters." Spencer points to a room off to the side and Ryan follows Jon inside. It's not a large room, but the ship itself isn't all that large. There's an alcove in the corner for what Ryan assumes must be the sonic shower and a small closet and bureau for clothes.

There are also two beds pushed up against one of the walls. Ryan swallows.

"Captain," Jon says. "I requested quarters for each of us."

"Yeah, you said you needed quarters for two." Spencer waves his arm at the two beds and the closet and bureau. "This is quarters for two."

"You knew exactly what I meant!" Jon raises his voice, glaring at Spencer and if Ryan isn't mistaken, that was a bit of a growl in his voice.

"I think they'll be fine, Jon," Ryan tells him and doesn't look Jon's way. He can feel Jon back down anyway, can feel him walk away from Spencer. "Thank you very much, Captain," Ryan continues on. "Don't let us keep you from any of your pre-launch duties."

Spencer gives him another long look, like he's trying to remember where he knows Ryan from before shaking his head and leaving. He closes the door behind him and when Ryan turns back to Jon, Jon's hanging his head, nape exposed. It's a perfect subservient gesture, Ryan's seen men and women do it in front of his father hundreds of times. It's still weird to him that anyone would be doing it for him. "Jon, stop. Remember?"

"We're alone," Jon says and Ryan shakes his head.

"We have to practice. They can't suspect any, Jon. So don't treat me special in here because it will only lead to you treating me special out there." He catches Jon's eyes, stares directly into them for a few moments until Jon's nodding.

"The baggage-" he frowns, shrugging a bit. "I picked them up because, you're royalty and I'm sure you never carry your own bags usually. Then Spencer looked at me weird and I remembered that no one _else_ knew that and I couldn't put them down, that would be even more suspicious."

"Yeah," he says, rubbing the back of his neck. He thinks he should be firmer, his father would be firmer because Jon looks to him for leadership and guidance. He isn't his father and he's never been very good at ordering people around. Some days he honestly doesn't understand why he's an alpha. "We'll both have to be on the look out for that sort of stuff from now on."

They're quiet for a few minutes, each taking things out of their bags and laying them out on their beds until there's a crackle in the air. It must be shipboard communications because Brendon's voice carries cheerfully through the speaker in their room, "If anyone would be interested in seeing us off the planet, they can watch launch from the viewports in the common area."

Jon looks over, like he's waiting for Ryan to decide if he wants to go or not and Ryan nods. "I've never watched a planet launch," he says and leads Jon out of their room.

\---

"Is it true?" Jon asks later. They're in their room again, in bed because they're cycling through the ship's version of night. When Ryan looks over, he can see Jon's on his side, watching him from across the tiny aisle between their beds.

"Is what true?" Ryan asks, though he thinks he knows what Jon's going to say.

"What everyone's been saying. That you have a place for us, a town all our own."

Ryan shakes his head. "They tried that before," he licks his lips, remembering his father's ashen face when the death tolls came in, the way the Alliance had tried to follow the money trail, one of his father's advisors forging documentation that he was responsible. He'd been publicly executed for aiding and abetting werewolves, hanged in the main square of the capitol and the video beamed to every handheld and computer station in the galaxy. Ryan had felt sick just watching others watch it, had to look away because he'd known him. He'd known that man all his life and he'd taken the blame for them, for Ryan's father and his family.

"I guess it didn't go well?" Jon asks.

"The nearest neighboring town was over sixty-five miles away and they still got suspicious, still spied on them and alerted the Alliance about their 'werewolf infestation', Jon. They killed them, all of them. They killed the men, the women, even the children and then they burned the town to the ground."

"Then what are we doing with our cargo, Si- Ryan? Why are we risking them?"

"We've gone one better than a town, Jon," Ryan tells him with a small smile. "My father bought us a planet. The Alliance named it Atoz IV but my father's already renamed it Badra."

"A homeworld? Our very own... really? So we're taking them to... we're taking them home," Jon's voice is full of wonder, like he didn't think anything like this would even be possible.

"Those are our orders. We have the smaller shipment, only a few dozen. The majority of our people's cubs are on another transport ship but yeah, basically we're all going home." He hadn't really thought about it that way before. He hasn't had a home, not since they left their estate on Geminus. Every place they've lived since then has always felt impermanent, like just another stop on their journey towards... something. Maybe this is what they've been moving towards.

"Thank you," Jon says and Ryan really doesn't know what to say to that because his father did most of this, not him but he's not sure if Jon's thanking him for the planet or telling him or what. He kind of hates this being royalty thing sometimes.

"My father is a great man," he says instead of anything like answering. It feels safe, not too familiar and not taking credit for something he didn't do.

\---

Between Brendon's continued maintenance on the engines and the Captains piloting duties in the cockpit, he and Jon have a fairly narrow window of opportunity to spend time in the cargo hold by themselves. This is how Ryan ends up helping him with the cubs. They're only taking half of them out of stasis at a time, Jon says it's safest that way. "Are they supposed to be so... wiggly?" Ryan asks.

Jon looks over and laughs. "You're going to need to hold them closer than that, Ryan. What if they transform back?"

It's a good point and Ryan's glad he made it when only seconds later, he werewolf cub in his arms transforms into a sleepy-eyed baby girl. He holds he close, checking her vitals like Jon's doing with the cub he has and then lays her back down in her stasis pod.

"Can I ask you something?" Jon asks and Ryan nods because even if Ryan can't answer it, Jon's more than welcome to ask. Jon licks his lips and doesn't look up. "Why do they do that?" He's pointing at the cub in front of Ryan, the little boy that just transformed from a cub into a baby and then back again.

"Why do they do what?" Ryan asks because they're not acting all that unusual.

"Why do they keep transforming? Why don't they stay babies?"

"Well, they can't control it, Jon," he says, looking up. "I mean, why don't you act civilized when the moon is full? Why don't you control your change like you can the rest of the time?"

"I can't, right?" Jon answers but he doesn't sound all that certain. "I mean, I can't help that I'm not an alpha. That's just biology or psychology or whatever it is that means I'll never be an alpha wolf."

Ryan nods. "Exactly, Jon. I know that, everyone knows that about lesser wolves. It's not something that can be helped. Part of being an alpha is being able to fully control the change. Just like part of being a baby is having _no_ control over the change. They'll learn to, once they start walking, just like you did." He smiles softly at Jon but Jon frowns.

"I umm, I wasn't born like... I was made," he says, still looking down. It's a surprise. Ryan had known a few others who'd been made but they'd all been old enough to remember the time before the Alliance handed down kill orders for all of their kind.

"Really? I've never met... you're just so young. How did you get turned?"

Jon's still taking the cubs out of stasis, checking their vitals and occasionally tickling their stomachs or making silly faces at them. He's done with an entire container of stasis pods in the time it's taken Ryan to do three but it doesn't stop him from answering. "It was an accident," he says, shrugging. "My friend, Tom was born like this. I always knew, even though he never said. We met when we were doing freight loading on huge cargo haulers. We were stopping over on Drakon and it was supposed to just be a quick haul- load the beryllium and get out- but you know what Drakon's like. It snows four hundred and fifty-three days out of the year there and they only have a four hundred and fifty-five day year. Conditions were too bad to send the freight pods back to the ship which meant we were stuck planet-side too."

Jon bites his lip and looks up for just a second. "We were down there too long. We didn't know, _Tom_ didn't know but the full moon came and he transformed and he left, he ran away as soon as he noticed what was happening to him but I forgot. I tried to get him to come in out of the snow and he bit me. He didn't mean to, it was an accident."

"How did you manage to survive? Alone on an ice planet with a werewolf?" Ryan can't imagine it, not without an alpha around to control this Tom person.

"I ran back to the shelter." Jon looks down while he says it, frowning at the werewolf cub on the table in front of him. "They're meant specifically to withstand the wind, snow and ice. I ran inside and locked the door and didn't open it again until it was morning."

"Good," it was smart, the only smart thing to do.

"I found that out later. I didn't know at the time. I just felt like a coward who'd left his best friend out in the snow on an ice planet." Jon smiles. "I found him face-down in the snow, passed out wearing nothing but his underwear. We're just lucky the cargo ship didn't come back before we managed to make it back to the shelter."

"How old were you?" Ryan asks and Jon looks surprised.

"Sixteen, why?"

"Just, I can't imagine having to learn about being a werewolf when I was that age. I mean, I grew up learning how to deal with the way things smelled and the way I heard things other people couldn't and that I might suddenly turn into a wolf if I didn't control myself properly." Ryan shrugs. "Not to mention, I'm a prince, so for the most part, I learned all this stuff around people who were doing their best to take care of me and make sure I didn't get found out or destroy anything." Also he seemed to know a lot about protocol for someone who hadn't been born into being a werewolf.

"It wasn't easy but I had help," Jon tells him.

"Your friend Tom?"

"Yeah, him and some others that Tom knew," Jon says. "Though Bill, Carden, Butcher and Siska weren't really the best role models."

"Michael Carden?" Ryan asks. "Son of the Minister of the Interior?"

"I think his dad worked in the government, yeah. Why?"

"Nothing, it's just, he's an alpha and, umm..." Ryan tries desperately to come up with a delicate way to say 'he's rich and well-connected, why would he be spending time with cargo-haulers?' without sounding like the spoiled asshole he knows he kind of is but fails.

"I don't know how Tom knew him, he seemed to be friends with all of them, like they all went back a long way. All I knew was they were all werewolves and Tom trusted them."

Ryan didn't really have friends like that. He never did. No one to teach him new things or figure out how to do stuff together with. Unless you count Spencer teaching him to properly climb trees and spit but he'd been eleven when Spencer left so probably no one would. He isn't surprised that Jon could make friends that easily though. Jon's just that way. Ryan has been taught for years not to be too familiar with his subjects and even then, he finds himself so easily taken in by him.

\---

"So what was it like?" Jon asks, eyes meeting his in the tiny mirror over the sink the Ryan's using to shave. "Being a prince, growing up among your own kind? Constantly being with them? Take your pick."

Jon grins and for a second, Ryan regrets teaching him to treat him like just anyone else. He likes that he asks him questions though, likes that he'll sprawl on his own bed, loose-limbed and lazy, smelling a lot like contentment and ask him about their new homeworld, about werewolf stuff, anything. He gets this look in his eyes, something warm and friendly and more open than anyone else that Ryan's ever met. Ryan would be lying if he said he didn't like it.

"It was okay. I can't really compare it to anything so it's kind of a difficult question to answer." Ryan shrugs and goes back to carefully draggging his razor across his skin. It's a lot harder to shave on a space ship than on solid earth. Especially when Jon's watching. "Why do you ask?"

"Just wondering." Ryan gives Jon a look, an I-don't believe-you look and Jon shrugs. "I don't know. Ever since I found out about the Werewolf King and his family and everything, I've always been curious."

"It's not... we're just people. I mean, my father, he's... he's just a man," Ryan tells him.

"He sounds amazing. I mean, making us a home, trying to keep us alive even though he could just stop, go away and be rich somewhere." Jon looks up, smiles. "He doesn't gain much from keeping us all safe."

Ryan hadn't really thought of it that way. It's a good thing, keeping their kind united and hopeful when the Alliance is trying to destroy them. It's kind of a great thing but Ryan doesn't really think his father is doing it because he's so altruistic. He's seen his father speak to those who come to him for counsel. He likes being the King. He likes it for himself and Ryan know how that feels. He's gotten plenty of things simply because he's the Werewolf Prince so he doesn't know if he can really pass judgment on him for that.

"My father isn't perfect, Jon," Ryan tells him, because it's fair and provable and kind of self-evident.

"Yeah, I know but it's nice that he's around." When Ryan raises an eyebrow at him in the mirror he continues on. "I never had a family growing up. I'm a war orphan and I got bounced around from cousin to cousin to uncle to aunt to step-grandparents and back again. I knew a lot of people like me growing up too. So many of us that don't have a homeworld or people we can claim as our own but when I became a werewolf, it all changed. Suddenly I was a part of something bigger than me. Suddenly I had people and friends and there was a hierarchy and what is our pack if not some kind of extreme extended family?" Ryan can tell by the look on Jon's face that he means every word, that he isn't just idly flattering Ryan about the Prince thing, which Ryan knew, but still.

"You really mean all that. You... you're happy to be one of us."

"It's hard. I can't say it's not hard. I can't be around people who aren't like us very much. I have to be careful all the time, that I don't say or do the wrong thing. Even here, I can't do the things I want to because we have to be careful about Brendon and Spencer," Jon turns over onto his stomach and then pulls himself up into a sitting position. "What else can you tell me about him? Your father I mean."

Ryan looks at his own reflection in the mirror, trying to separate his own less charitable thoughts from what is appropriate. "He's... he's strict but I do think he tries to be fair. He believes in control and discipline and he's really been working hard on relocating our people. There's so much planning involved, more than I ever dreamed. He's arranged for everything, for our defense, for the rest of our young to be shipped in, food, water, power... everything."

"Huh," Jon says, frowning slightly. "You didn't say there was another mission like ours. I was thinking we just didn't have many young."

"No, we have plenty," Ryan tells him. "The larger group is being moved by someone else. One of the Sub-Commanders of the army, actually."

"Wait, they have the larger group?" Ryan doesn't want to look at Jon, doesn't want to have to answer whatever question he's clearly not asking with his words.

"My father felt the interests of our people would be best served with me taking charge of this mission, not the other one," he says, sliding his razor over his chin one last time. "This is what my father wanted."

When he finally turns around, Jon is looking up at him from the bed. His gaze is heavy, like he's considering something. Ryan waits for him to say something and is surprised when he stands up instead. He move towards him, still watching and Ryan feels his heart-rate quicken.

"You missed a spot," Jon says and reaches up to brush his thumb lightly over a tiny patch of stubble just over his jaw.

"Thanks," Ryan says but doesn't move. They stand there for a moment until Jon smiles softly and ducks his head. Ryan takes that as his cue and turns away so he can get finish shaving.

\---

"Ryan, hey Ryan," he can hear Jon calling him but it feels very far away, like he'd have to rise up from the nice, warm place he is in order to answer him. "RYAN!"

Ryan opens his eyes and Jon's grinning down at him. "C'mon, Brendon and Spencer finally went to bed. We can go check on the stasis pods."

"I don't want to," he says and closes his eyes. "It's late, too late."

"That doesn't matter," Jon says and pokes him in the side. Ryan isn't thinking when he reaches up and pulls Jon's hand down against Ryan's bed. He turns, pulling Jon down onto the bed, pinning him against the wall with his body and sighing.

"Go to sleep," he whispers, still mostly asleep.

"Ryan, we umm, we have to-"

"Shhhh," he says but there's a subtle shift in the way Jon smells, less like playfulness and more like... like something else. He opens his eyes and when they're slitted half-way open he sees that Jon's leaning in, face tilted up like he's going to kiss Ryan. Then he closes his eyes and Ryan knows that's _exactly_ what he plans to do.

"Jon?" he asks, licking his lips.

"Shhh," Jon answers and Ryan finds himself laughing.

The entire world shifts left, hard and suddenly Ryan isn't laughing at all. It's the ship, they're moving much, much more quickly than before and even Ryan knows what that means. "We're under attack," he says.

They clamber down the hallway and Ryan half-climbs the ladder up to the cockpit when the door opens. "I don't have time for this," Spencer shouts down to them. "Go back to your quarters and try to _assume_ we're just as invested in not exploding in a fiery ball of death as you are." He closes the door then and the hiss of the lock tells Ryan that it's been pressurized shut.

"He has a point," Brendon says while wandering by with his arms full of power packs and circuit boards. "You really can't do anything about this. Either the two of us get us all out of this or we die. It's that simple. So go on and try not to get smashed up against a wall."

Brendon turns to go and Ryan and Jon look at each other at the exact same time. "The stasis pods," Jon whispers and he sounds so horrified.

They sprint down the corridor, towards the cargo hold and Ryan prays to a thousand deities he never believed in that they're okay, that nothing has happened to them. None of the containers are overturned, which is the most important thing. They start opening containers and checking vitals and once they're done Jon lets out a shaky breath.

"Looks like the inertial dampeners on the stasis fields held," Jon says, wiping his face. Ryan nods, unsure if Jon wants him to acknowledge that he's clearly upset.

"Yeah, it's a good thing." He doesn't know what to say so he just rests his hand on Jon's back and strokes lightly while Jon bites his lip and finishes wiping his eyes. They close up all of the stasis containers and trudge back to their room while the ship lurches under them.

Lying on his side on his bed, Ryan looks across to where Jon's lying on his own bed and facing him. "Everything's going to be okay," Ryan tells him and Jon nods.

\---

"So the good news is that we think we're not going to get blown out of the sky," Spencer says over breakfast the next morning.

"And the bad news?" Ryan asks and Spencer rubs the back of his neck with one hand.

"The bad news is that we're not completely sure and because of that, one of us is always going to be on duty and we're going to need you to stick to your quarters as much as possible."

"Your answer to someone outside following you is to lock us in our quarters?" Ryan asks.

"How is that supposed to help you?" Jon adds.

Spencer looks at Brendon and Brendon shakes his head before answering them. "The truth is, we don't know you. Sure, Jon comes recommended from friends of friends but that's not the same as knowing you're both totally solid and aren't in any way colluding with the Alliance gunships pursuing us."

"So this is about you not trusting us?" Jon actually sounds hurt.

"I really doubt that the two of you trust us completely either," Spencer says and Jon must recognize the validity of that because he stops talking.

"What are we supposed to do about the stasis pods?" Jon asks later when they're in their quarters. "We can't be sneaking off if they're going to be watching us."

"We'll have to really sneak this time. One at a time while the other keeps a look out or keeps them distracted." Ryan hadn't known he'd been thinking it, not until it was coming out of his mouth. It was the only thing that made sense, the only way they were going to be able to keep an eye on the pods without getting caught. It doesn't mean he isn't still unsettled. "Do you think they know? About us?"

"No," Jon says, shaking his head. "Why would they even suspect?" It makes sense and Ryan falls asleep to the steady, sure scent of Jon across the aisle from him and it makes him feel certain too.

\---

It's not that hard to keep checking the stasis pods. It takes a little longer since there's only ever one of them, but Spencer and Brendon seem far too focused on what's going on outside of the ship, to really ask questions about what he and Jon are doing all the time. It's kind of nice, like maybe they do trust them after all.

Ryan's at the breakfast table, checking the time over and over again because today is Jon's day to check the pods while Ryan runs distraction and Jon's not even up yet. He frowns and shovels another bite of oatmeal into his mouth just as Jon stumbles in, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Hey," he says wen Jon sits down. "You okay?"

"M'fine," Jon answers.

"You sure? I mean... today's your day with the pods and we both know that after breakfast is one of the best times to keep off Brendon and Spencer's radars."

"Yeah, I know," Jon says petulantly. The scent of sleep is still clinging to his body but there are other things too, uncertainty and confusion the sudden, stinging scent of anger.

"Jon," Ryan says again, reaching across the table to pat his hand, soothe him with touch because nothing else works better. Jon pulls his hand away and _glares_ at Ryan, red-hot anger in his eyes.

"Don't touch me," he growls and Ryan can feel his hands clenching into fists at the insubordinate tone, the scent of defiance that's coming off of him in waves.

"_Don't_, speak to me like that," Ryan answers. He doesn't like how hard it is to stay where he is, how hard he's working to keep control of himself to not leap across the table and force Jon into submission.

Jon stands up and walks out of the mess area, back towards their quarters and once he's gone, once the overwhelming scent of Jon's defiance and anger is away from him, Ryan can think again. He knows he hasn't done anything wrong. He wasn't berating Jon for not coming earlier, he was just asking. What could he even be angry about?

For a split second, Ryan thinks back to Jon leaning in to kiss him, both of them laughing practically into each other's mouths and being rudely interrupted by the attack. He hasn't done anything else, hasn't pursued it but they've been kind of busy. The pods take longer to check and they're trying to be sneaky around Brendon and Spencer. Neither of them are very good at being sneaky and it tends to take some planning. Still, it is shitty of him to just leave Jon hanging and never say anything about it.

He gets up, jogs towards the cargo hold and manages to catch Jon before he goes inside. "Jon!" he says, reaching out for Jon's wrist to tug him to a stop.

Jon reaches back, grasping Ryan's own wrist and pulls hard, yanking Ryan into the hull and then shoving his arm against Ryan's back, pinning him against the cold metal of the wall. "I said _don't touch me_," Jon hisses.

Ryan can't think, not like this. His father would be ashamed but he twists under Jon, throwing his elbow and easily breaking out of Jon's hold. It's pure instinct to pin Jon against the metal, hand against his back and lean in. "And I told you not to _talk_ to me like that." There's a growl to his voice an angry growl that he's never heard from himself before. Jon struggles, trying to get out of his hold and Ryan keeps him pinned. "Apologize," he says but it's still more like a growl. When Jon remains silent he shoves him hard against the hull.

Jon lets out a shaky breath and drops his head, exposing his nape like he never does anymore. "I'm sorry," he whispers and it's like ice water in Ryan's veins.

"Jon," he says, letting go and stepping away. "Jon I'm... I don't know what- I shouldn't have done that. That was wrong of me. _I'm sorry_, Jon. I'm so, so sorry."

He turns around and ignores the uncertain look in Jon's eyes. One person, he only has to lead one person and he can't do that without fucking up.

Brendon's working on some serious repairs all day today. Ryan knows because Brendon spent the entire day yesterday telling everyone that they couldn't bother him today because of his Very Important Repairs. That just leaves Spencer to worry about so he heads towards the cockpit. He's surprised to find the hatch open. "Captain?" he calls up the ladder.

"Hello, Ryan," Spencer says looking down. He nods with his head like it would be okay for Ryan to come up and it's the first time he's ever done that so Ryan goes. The cockpit is basically like he expected it to be, cramped, full of buttons he's very scared of but with a huge viewscreen to look out of. It's far bigger than any of the portholes down in the mess area. He hasn't been able to see where they were going the entire journey and he stops for a moment to take everything in. There's a huge planet to their left another large celestial body to their right and ahead of them is an endless field of stars.

"Wow," he says and Spencer grins.

"Yeah, it's definitely my favorite part of not being able to afford to pay a pilot," Spencer waves expansively out with his hand. "All this is mine."

"Better than looking at the engines all day, right?" Ryan asks and Spencer nods.

"Or constantly sneaking into the cargo hold." Ryan freezes when Spencer says it, uncertain what to say or do.

"Umm-"

"We're not going to steal your stuff, you know," Spencer says, looking up at him. "Honestly it would be a really terrible idea. We're in the business of cargo hauling and sometimes we take on passengers. Word gets out that we like to steal cargo _from_ our passengers and that's really not going to go well for us at all, is it?"

"It's not that," Ryan tells him because he didn't think Spencer would take it personally.

"Then what _is_ it like?" Spencer asks. "Because me and Brendon were talking about it last night and we can't help being kind of offended."

"It's not about you guys, it's about our cargo. It's very... delicate and it needs to be checked on, that's all."

"Okay," Spencer says and Ryan lets out a sigh of relief, looking out the window.

"Didn't we just pass by that?" Ryan asks, pointing at the planet on their left. Most specifically, he's pointing at the odd looking landmass that he knows they passed by already.

"Yeah, we're in orbit around the planet," Spencer explains, pulling up a 3-D model on the viewscreen. There's a representation of the planet, a little red dot that he assumes is the _New Perspective_ and the smaller planet to their right.

"Is this a twin planet system?" he asks, pointing at the closeness of the two celestial bodies.

"No, you can tell because the thing to our right isn't large enough. No, we're orbiting around the planet and right now, taking cover in it's moon's gravitational field. The planet is Bint Yom and it's moon is Ma'a, don't ask me why."

"It's Arabic," Ryan tells him, looking down at the planet and then up at the moon. "The planet's name means daughter of day and the moon's name means water."

"You speak Arabic?" Spencer asks him.

"No, I really don't," Ryan answers. "I've just heard of them before. Before they drained it dry, this moon used to provide water to over half the planets in the Allied Systems."

"Yeah? I was wondering why the craters looked so strange. Not like most moons. I've asked myself why they look so different every time I pass by the moon. They must have been where water used to be."

That stops Ryan cold. "Wait, every time? We've gone by more than once?"

"You said your arrival date was flexible," Spencer answers. "Or at least your man said it was. If he got it wrong, take it up with him. We've been hiding in the planet's atmosphere and gravitational field for a while."

It hasn't been that long, it hasn't... has it? "Can you pull up all of your readings of the moon and our trajectory? I know you have to be monitoring it." Ryan asks and Spencer presses a few buttons and there they are. Numbers and graphs spill across the screen and Ryan feels like he has ice in his stomach.

"It's going to be a full moon," he says and Spencer laughs.

"We won't really know from up here," he says but Ryan just swallows hard.

"I have to... Jon and I are going to spend the rest of the evening in our quarters and I am asking that you not go in," Ryan tells him.

"What makes you think we would?" Spencer asks, clearly insulted.

"I don't, not unless it was important and that's why I'm asking. No matter what you hear or what you smell or... or anything, promise me you won't go into our quarters," Ryan tries to look as serious and certain as he can but he probably just has a crazy look in his eyes because Spencer doesn't look at all certain when he nods.

"Okay, if that's what you want," Spencer answers.

"Thank you," he says and hurries down the ladder, running back to the cargo hold.

"Jon!" he calls into the darkness and there's movement to his right. When he turns, Jon's there, leaning against the wall.

"Ryan, I don't," Jon shakes his head, licking his lips. "I'm thirsty."

"We're going back to our quarters, Jon," Ryan tells him as firmly as he can. "We're going back to our quarters and you're going to stay there."

"Who do you think you are?" Jon asks, walking over to Ryan. He's standing closer than he usually does, than he usually would. His stance is belligerent and his scent is pure challenge. It makes Ryan feel better about acting out, knowing that the moon is going to be full tonight. He still feels guilty for ordering Jon around but Jon _needs_ it right now. He needs Ryan to take care of him, to keep control of Jon when Jon can't keep control of himself. "Who do you think you are, telling me what to do?"

"I'm your Prince," Ryan answers, reaching out and grabbing Jon's arm. It takes all of his control not to squeeze hard, not to _show_ Jon why he should listen to him. He's not used to having to be dominant like this, having to use his status as an alpha. "I'm your Prince and I'm your alpha and you will do as I say."

Jon looks like he's going to argue, opening his mouth and showing his teeth so Ryan gives in and squeezes down on Jon's arm, yanking him forward. "Go," he says and Jon does as he says. There's sweat on Jon's forehead, on the back of his neck and on his wrists. Ryan can smell it, now that Jon's not being deliberately defiant. He's running a fever and Ryan remembers him being warm to the touch this morning at breakfast but he hadn't thought anything of it.

"I'm sorry," Ryan says to Jon's back. This is his job. Taking care of Jon, especially during a full moon is exactly what it means to be an alpha. He locks the door behind them, putting in the lock code that only he knows and turns to Jon. "We should put everything away. I've never seen you transform before so I have no idea how much you like to destroy things." Their quarters aren't a mess but they've left things out, equipment for checking on the cubs, Ryan's vid player and Jon's pictures of his friends. Ryan might not personally have experience in this but he knows what his father and his father's men do to prepare.

Once everything is put away in drawers or the closet and their quarters are mostly bare again, Ryan starts stripping out of his clothes . Jon follows suit until they're both standing around in their underwear. Then Jon begins to pace. It's nervous pacing which is strange because Jon's just not the nervous type. "Jon? Are you okay?"

"Does it hurt?" he asks and Ryan blinks.

"You don't know?"

"I live in the black, Ryan. I spend my time hopping from one hauler to the other, only occasionally stopping on planets and _never_ during the full moon," Jon snaps back. "Why the hell do you think I'd have experience with this?"

"But, you've transformed before, right?"

"Of course I have but I _chose_ to transform then," Jon answers. "Tom told me it's different when he chooses to do it than when it just happens because of the moon. He never told me if it hurt or not."

"Well, it hurts me when I have to transform because of the moon, so it'll probably hurt you too," Ryan admits.

"Wait, you _have_ to transform? I thought being an alpha meant you didn't."

Ryan shakes his head. "No, being an alpha just means I can control myself _after_ I change. None of us can hold back against the moon, not even my father."

Jon nods and then closes his eyes, grimacing in pain. "Isn't it starting a little early?" he asks and he sounds afraid.

"It's going to take longer for you to transform, Jon." Ryan feels like a dick, having to tell Jon just how much this is going to hurt and for how long but this is his job. Jon deserves to know the truth. "And it's going to hurt the entire time because your body's new to this. I'm sorry. I wish I could do something but... there's nothing to do."

"What are we going to do about-" Jon cuts himself off, doubling over in pain and clutching his stomach. Ryan reaches out to him, helping him down to the floor. Jon grits his teeth and keeps going. "Spencer and Brendon, what are we going to do? If they come in here... can you keep them safe from me?"

"They won't come in," Ryan tells him. "I talked to Spencer before. I didn't tell him about us but he said he'd leave us alone."

"Spencer?" Jon asks, still clutching his stomach.

"The Captain."

"Oh. I didn't know you two were so close." Ryan's about to explain, maybe all of it or maybe just enough to make Jon stop smelling so sad but Jon cries out and Ryan forgets what he was about to say.

"Jon?" he asks.

"Hurts," he says through clenched teeth, breathing hard. "God, Ryan, why does this hurt so much?"

Ryan strokes his back, uncertain what to say. He remembers one of his father's Cabinet members telling a lesser wolf he was caring for during the full moon, 'If you can still talk, it's not nearly as bad as it's going to get, brother'. Even though that's true, Ryan can't bring himself to say it to Jon. "You'll be okay," he says. "It's just for a little while. It's going to hurt and then it will be over. You'll be fine, Jon."

Ryan can feel his own bones start to shift, can feel the way his skin stops feeling right. Jon stiffens in his arms and Ryan can smell the fear. "I'm right here, Jon," he says and Jon leans against him, shuddering hard. "I'm going to stay right here."

It takes Jon nearly an hour to shift completely and Ryan's shocked he isn't crying all the way through. Ryan did. He cried almost the entire time and his father had scolded him afterward for needing to maintain better control. Ryan's fully transformed long before Jon is and it's strange, sitting there with Jon practically collapsed half in his lap when he's covered in fur and has razor sharp claws. It makes him feel ridiculous in the worst way.

Then Jon finishes transforming and Ryan wishes they were back to looking and feeling ridiculous. Jon swipes out at him, biting and clawing and Ryan has to slash back, has to bite hard at Jon's shoulder and claw at his stomach. They're loud, too loud because Jon's a howler and he likes to try and throw Ryan against things. Ryan really, really hopes Spencer does as he asked.

The third time Jon tries to pin Ryan against something, it finally clicks in Ryan's head what's going on and if he'd had the right kind of vocal cords, he'd laugh. The clawing, the biting, the attempts to throw and pin... Jon's trying to assert dominance. It really is laughable because... well because Jon's one of the least alpha males he's ever met.

He paws Jon away, not bothering to use his claws this time and when Jon lunges back, snarling Ryan grabs him by the neck and slams him to the floor, pinning him there on his front. Jon's still growling so Ryan growls back, leaning in to menace him from up close. Jon tries to throw him up and because he's so close, Ryan doesn't think anything of leaning in to bite hard at the back of Jon's neck. He sinks his teeth into Jon's ruff and shakes him a bit, making his point clear. Jon's body immediately goes limp underneath Ryan's and when Ryan gets up, Jon turns over and exposes his belly.

Ryan doesn't want to be shocked that he's actually done it. It seems like an awful risk to have taken with the ship and with Spencer and Brendon's lives if he's shocked that it worked. It doesn't change that he kind of is. He moves off of Jon and is surprised again when Jon leans up to lick at his mouth. Ryan's seen it before, seen other pack members relate to alpha's like that but it just makes him think of Jon trying to kiss him the day of the attack.

He stalks away, pacing twice in front of Jon before laying back on the floor. Jon slowly crosses the distance between them, belly close to the floor and curls up against Ryan's side. He doesn't move the rest of the night and Ryan's filled with an overwhelming sense of pride. He curls further around Jon and falls asleep, warm and close and strangely happy for there being a full moon out.

\---

Ryan carries Jon to his bed in the morning, once they're both back to being human and Ryan finally wakes up. Jon has bites and scratches all over him and Ryan knows he won't be awake for hours. He'll have to spend the rest of the day in bed recovering anyway. Ryan covers him with his blanket and frowns down at the nasty looking bruise on Jon's side. "Sorry," he says, even though Jon can't hear him because he is. He'd never want to hurt Jon and he wishes he could take it back, just a bit.

"You okay?" Spencer asks, as soon as Ryan comes out. Brendon is beside him, craning his neck to look beyond Ryan in the most conspicuous way possible.

"I'm fine, so is Jon. He's just sleeping off last night."

"Hey, speaking of last night," Brendon says, looking pointedly at Ryan.

Ryan swallows hard and rubs at the back of his neck. "Can we do this over breakfast? I'm starving."

 

He tries to explain as much as he can while shoveling food into his mouth but he doesn't know how successful he is because Brendon staring at him oddly. "So, you're werewolves?" Brendon asks. Ryan nods. "Oh dude, how does that even work? Like, it's because of the planet? How did you, I mean, you're not even _on_ the planet!"

"I, umm, I don't really know how it works, just that it does," Ryan explains. "I've heard that sometimes werewolves who orbit a planet for a while will lock into it's lunar cycle but no one really knows why."

"Hasn't anyone tried to find out?" Brendon seems affronted that there's not some sort of research and Ryan laughs.

"It's personal, spiritual, something we can't explain. And I don't really think we want to? There's... we're connected to the lunar cycle, that's what we know. It could be magic for all we know."

"Do you mean spiritual like it's your religion?" Spencer asks and Ryan shakes his head.

"Not like you mean, just that it ties us to the greater whole, all of the werewolves in the galaxy, we all share this thing in common and it _feels_ very spiritual. Like we're different for a reason, even if we have no idea what that reason is," Ryan explains. Though he thinks he might be rambling.

"Your last name," Spencer begins and Ryan looks up. "It's Ross, isn't it? You- I do know you, don't I?"

"You used to work for-"

"Your parents!" Spencer interrupts. "We lived on your property and... we used to be _friends_!"

"It was a long time ago and things are different now, Spencer. I'm doing something very important, I couldn't just-"

"Trust me?" Spencer asks.

"We don't know each other anymore. Are you seriously saying you trust me?" Ryan shoots back.

"Brendon and I have done nothing _but_ trust you two since you got on board. Sneaking around in the cargo hold, keeping stuff from us. We've been insanely tolerant." Spencer's jaw is set in that stubborn way that Ryan remembers from childhood means he's not going to budge. "You're the one keeping secrets, Mr. Ross."

"I-" Ryan feels bad about it, he does but he doesn't know how much he can- he looks up at Spencer and Spencer looks hopefully back. "Come with me." He turns and heads for the cargo hold, for the nearest container of pods and opens it before stepping back so they can see inside.

"Oh my god, they're baby smugglers," Brendon shouts, jumping back. Ryan has to laugh and it doesn't take long before Spencer is joining him.

"This is the future of our kind," Ryan says. "We're bringing them to a new homeworld, somewhere where we'll be safe from the Alliance."

"So they're your babies?" Brendon says. "I guess it's not smuggling, then."

"Ryan Ross, defender of the innocent," Spencer says, smiling at him. "Always knew you'd grow up to be something special. You know, one way or another."

\---

"Hey," Jon says when he wakes up the next day. His voice sounds completely shredded but he doesn't smell like hurt and blood anymore, so Ryan's counting it as a win.

"Morning," Ryan answers back. Jon's smiling and Ryan feels almost overwhelmingly pleased by that. He'd spent most of last night watching Jon twitch in his sleep, probably feeling his own skin knitting back together. "Feeling better?"

"Yeah, a lot. I woke up yesterday, right? That wasn't just a dream?"

"You woke up," Ryan tells him. "You weren't very coherent and I gave you a sedative right away, but you were awake."

"Was it, was I okay? I don't remember much after I changed but I feel like it wasn't a huge disaster and I figure if I'd gotten out and killed Spencer and Brendon you'd have crashed the ship by now for sure."

"I could be a great pilot," Ryan shoots back. "You don't know."

"Are you?" Jon asks and when Ryan looks over at him, he's staring at Ryan intently.

"No, not really," he admits.

"I'm really surprised by that," Jon says and he sounds sincere but he smells like playfulness and happy. Jon makes a grunting noise when he gets out of bed and it makes sense that he'd still be sore but Ryan looks over anyway to make sure it's not anything more than that.

Jon's standing with his back to Ryan, going through the top dresser drawer, probably looking for clean underwear and all Ryan can stare at is the length of his back. The bruising he left on Jon's side is almost completely gone, healed, but looking at Jon's back, the freckles on his shoulders, the soft curve of his spine and the way his back and hips meet at his ass, it makes something in Ryan's stomach clench tight.

"Are you staring at me?" Jon asks and Ryan quickly looks away.

"No," he says in the least convincing way ever.

"You can," Jon says and when Ryan looks up he's still watching Ryan. "I don't mind."

It's not shy and Jon doesn't sound particularly uncertain but Ryan still feels strange about the way Jon says it, head tilted down and a soft smile on his face. It's... it's almost demure and nothing about Jon is particularly demure. "I promised to help Spencer with something," he says, getting up. "I should... bye."

Ryan tries to spend as much time away from Jon as possible, considering they're on a fairly small ship and they share quarters. He checks on the stasis pods by himself, spends time with Spencer, helping him navigate around some spacial anomalies Spencer doesn't like the look of (for varied definitions of help that include pushing buttons Spencer could have easily pushed himself) and he even tries to hang out in the engine room, asking Brendon about all of the modifications he's made.

Eventually, there's nothing else to do and he goes back to his room, their room. Jon's sitting on the floor next to his bed, playing solitaire. He looks up when Ryan walks in, biting his lip. "Ryan, about earlier, I didn't mean to... I'd never try to make you uncomfortable, you know that, right?"

He's apologizing and not meeting Ryan's eyes and between that and the way Ryan's been thinking about him it can only be one thing. "Don't be, it's okay," he says because Jon hasn't done anything wrong.

"Yeah?" Jon asks hopefully. "Do you mean, all of it was okay? Because I really did mean it."

Inviting him to look. "Jon I don't think that's a very good idea," he tells him because looking at the fading bruises on Jon's skin made him want to replace them with more and the way Jon's been looking at him just makes him want to _have_ him, all of him. This is about them being werewolves, about Jon bonding with him because it was his first full moon and Ryan was his alpha. Ryan won't take advantage of that. He won't let Jon mistake what he's feeling, the gratitude and a sense of his place in their pack for something else, even if he does really, really want to.

"You don't want to?" Jon asks.

"It's not a good idea," Ryan says again.

"But we-"

"No," Ryan interrupts and feels like an asshole when Jon shuts his mouth embarrassingly fast. They go to bed early, both of them tense. Ryan knows Jon's still awake, hours later when they should both have fallen asleep already. Jon doesn't smell anything like sleep, just tension and sweat and when Ryan looks over, he can see that Jon's eyes are open, that he's watching Ryan back.

"I'm sorry, Jon," Ryan whispers before turning away so his back is to him. He doesn't sleep and neither does Jon but at least they're not watching each other not do it.

\---

Jon's hand accidentally brushes against Ryan's over breakfast and both of them jolt.

Ryan trips on his way down the ladder from the cockpit and Jon's there to catch him.

Brendon has a major repair that needs Jon and Ryan to hold things in place while he doesn't something brilliant to make the whole thing fit together and Ryan can't concentrate on anything but not staring at Jon's mouth.

No matter what Ryan does, it's like Jon's there, being tempting and gorgeous and _his_. He didn't notice before, that Jon had started to smell like him from sharing quarters, the same soap and the same shampoo. He didn't notice that Jon tended to duck his head for just a split second whenever Ryan walked into a room, like he'd been taught to do it. Dozens of tiny things that really are too small to notice unless someone is being obsessive which Ryan knows he is.

\---

"Ryan," Jon says, voice high and breathy while Ryan slides inside of him again. He smells so good, like sweat and sex and _Ryan_, like everyone they might meet would know right away exactly who Jon belonged to. "Harder, I want-" and Ryan gives it to him, hips worker hard inside of him, panting against Jon's skin.

"Mine," he says, hips stuttering, "you're mine and-"

"Ryan?" Jon's voice cuts in, loud enough to wake Ryan up and Ryan freezes, forcing himself to stop humping against his fucking bed. A quick glance over to Jon's bed tells him that Jon probably has a pretty good idea of exactly what he's doing.

"I, umm," he's blushing all the way down to his _toes_ he's so embarrassed. He hasn't had a wet dream in years and here he is, humping the bed like a fucking teenager and probably calling out Jon's _name_.

"You can have first shower, if you want?" Jon suggests and Ryan takes it like the peace-offering it's meant to be.

\---

"So what are you going to do about it?" Brendon asks Jon. Ryan doesn't mean to be snooping but Spencer had asked him to get Brendon for him.

"I don't know, nothing, probably," Jon answers. Brendon makes an understanding noise and when Ryan looks, he's nodding his head and stroking his hand over Jon's back. Ryan's eyes narrow.

"Spencer sent me to get you," he says and when Brendon stands up, Ryan moves to stand between him and Jon. "He said something about fuel consumption and our new course." Brendon stares at him for a second and then rolls his eyes.

"I'll catch you later, Jon," he says and waves before turning to go.

"What the hell was that?" Jon asks, standing up. They're almost chest to chest like this and it's clearly very distracting for both of them. "I seriously don't get any of this." Jon takes a step back. "You're such a dick. You keep pushing me away and telling me no and then do shit like loudly calling out my name in your wet dreams and act like I'm cheating on you when I talk to a _friend_. I honestly don't know why I want to sleep with you so bad. I..." Jon trails off, staring at Ryan and licking his lips. Ryan knows he smells like desire right now, he smells like that a lot lately. "I really want to sleep with you."

"Yeah," Ryan says. "I know how you feel." He doesn't run away because it's nearly impossible to run anywhere on the ship but he does quickly leave to go back to their quarters. Maybe he'll take a cold shower.

\---

"So," Spencer says later. He's somehow found him in the cargo hold. Probably because it's not a very large ship. "What did you do to Brendon? He was fucking pissed earlier."

"Nothing," Ryan says. Spencer just looks at him. "I mean it! I just told him you wanted to talk to him."

"Look, Ryan. It's none of my business if you're doing some sort of weird dance around your servant or whatever, because you're both adults so I assume you can take care of that yourselves. What's my business is when you being kind of a jerk is pissing off my engineer because I don't like it when Brendon is angry in the immediate vicinity of the vital organs of my ship. You get me?"

"This thing with Jon is making me stupid," he says and Spencer raises an eyebrow. "I'm serious. All of this stuff with us, him and me, it's not about us, it's about being werewolves."

"Wait, what?" Spencer asks. "Pretend I only found out about werewolves a few days ago and try again."

"It was Jon's first full moon," Ryan explains. "He'd never changed because of the moon before and I was there and it's something that happens, sometimes."

"What's something that happens?"

"Bonding. Because I took care of him. I'm an alpha and I can control myself when the moon makes me change. Jon's not so he can't. It's my responsibility to keep control of him, assert my dominance so he'd fall in line with the ways of our pack. We don't kill, Spencer and we don't let the lesser wolves among us go out and kill. It's just not our way. I had to protect you and Brendon and I bit him and marked him and that made him mine."

"He doesn't seem to mind," Spencer says.

"_I_ mind. I mind that this is instinct and duty and not something else. I mind because it's like taking advantage of him," Ryan tells him. "I mind because I'm supposed to keep him safe."

Spencer looks at him hard for a second and then nods. "Okay. Did you ask how he felt?"

"What do you mean?" Ryan asks.

"I mean you've just told me your problems with all of this and I didn't hear anything about Jon. Did you even ask him?"

Ryan blushes and looks away. "He doesn't know that-"

"Then tell him and talk this out!" Spencer yells. "Seriously, Ryan, it isn't that hard."

"I didn't think of that," Ryan tells him and Spencer just nods.

"Yeah, I figured."

\---

"Hey," Ryan says, walking into their quarters.

"Hi," Jon answers back.

"So I was talking to Spencer and he said we should talk about this."

"About what?" Jon asks.

"This thing, that you and I have."

Jon lets out a frustrated breath. "I just don't get it. Things were good before, right? I mean, you were clearly going to let me kiss you and it went well, when I was changed? I didn't do anything to piss you off or change your opinion of me, right?"

"It's not like that," Ryan said. "It's just that this was your first time with a full moon and not being in control of yourself. I don't know how to explain it but there's a bond that forms between you and the first alpha who takes care of you. We don't know why it happens just that it does. Usually it happens when we're a lot younger but there's thousands of accounts of young boys and girls being perfect, obedient students to the alpha who first kept control of them. It's about dominance and being given a place in the pack. It's about the wolves inside recognizing that."

Jon bites his lip like he's thinking about it before shaking his head. "I don't actually mind that," he says. "I mean, I don't mind belonging to _you_."

"That's because of-"

"No, it isn't," Jon interrupts. "I wanted you before I changed. I wanted you when we first met. I wanted you to fuck me and kiss me and all of the same stuff I want you to do now. I just don't get why that's not enough. You're saying you don't want to take something away from me but that's exactly what you're doing. I want this, maybe you don't but if so, _say_ so."

"No! I... I want this too. You're really," he points at Jon's body with a grin. "You're hot and everything and you're funny and good with the cubs. I just don't want this to be weird and gross."

Jon grins and shakes his head. "You've kinda been making it weird and gross with the not talking to me and having loud wet dreams about me." Jon moves closer when he says it and Ryan wonders if they're finally going to get to that kiss from the day of the attack.

"You can't prove those dreams were about you," Ryan says.

"Jon, oh _Jon_," Jon mimics, mocking him. While Ryan's laughing, Jon leans in and kisses him. It's awkward because Ryan's mouth is still open and Jon's trying hard not to laugh too but it doesn't make it any less good. Jon's mouth is soft under his and when they finally get it right, soft lips and a quick tongue and Jon doesn't hold back from biting softly at Ryan's lower lip. It's familiar in a way, Jon's teeth and tongue at his mouth even though they've never really done this.

Ryan reaches up, fingers gripping Jon's hair and pulls him back just far enough so Ryan can talk to him. "You know why you do that, right?" Ryan asks and Jon shakes his head. "Real wolves do it too, licking and nipping at the mouth of the alpha." Ryan scrapes his teeth over Jon's throat and Jon shudders.

"Acknowledging your dominance?" Jon asks and Ryan laughs into his neck.

"It sounds dumb when you say it like that."

"Yeah but... it's nice, you being my alpha," Jon answers back, looking up at Ryan. "I mean you are, right?"

"Yes," Ryan answers, tightening his grip on Jon's hair and pulling him back in close enough for another kiss. "You're mine, Jon." He'd feel strange about saying that but Jon said himself that he always wanted to be a part of something.

"Ryan," Jon whispers and Ryan skims his free hand up Jon's shirt splaying his hand over Jon's belly, just feeling his skin. "We're both wearing too many clothes."

"Are you sure?" Ryan asks. Jon shoots him an exasperated look.

"You've been cockteasing me for forever now," Jon says. "I'm pretty fucking sure."

Ryan bites at Jon's neck again, only this time he's also pulling at Jon's shirt, moving away just long enough to get it over his head before kissing him again. Jon's hands go to the front of Ryan's shirt, fumbling with the buttons and shoving his hand inside so he can touch his skin, run his hands down Ryan's chest.

"Ryan," Jon whispers before running his tongue over Ryan's bottom lip. Ryan shudders and pulls Jon tighter against him. Jon's hard, Ryan can feel him against his hip and it just makes Ryan hotter, makes him want this even more.

"Fuck," Ryan answers, walking Jon back towards Ryan's bed. Once his knees hit the end, Ryan pushes him down onto it, following him so he's stretched out against Jon's side, half on top of him. "I'm gonna take such good care of you," he says, running his hand down Jon's chest to his groin and rubbing the heel of his hand over the bulge in Jon's pants. "I mean it. I'm going to make this so good."

"Please," Jon says, lifting his hips. "Come on, Ryan." Ryan pulls open the buttons on Jon's pants and reaches inside, pushing down Jon's boxer-briefs to wrap his hand around Jon's cock. When Jon opens his mouth to moan, Ryan just kisses him harder, taking it, taking every sound Jon makes and every arch of Jon's hips up into his fist.

He runs his thumb over the underside of Jon's cock, squeezing a little tighter and Jon starts squirming around, trying to kick his jeans off. "What are you-?"

"I want more," Jon interrupts. "I want- fuck, Ryan. I want so much."

"Shhh," Ryan kisses Jon again and helps him pulls his jeans down far enough that Jon can actually kick them off and not just flail against the bottom. "We will, don't worry. I just-" he trails his hand over Jon's thigh, "-I just want to make this last."

"Then you shouldn't have made me wait so long while you were a jerk." Jon grabs hold of Ryan's hand and brings it back to his cock, smiling up at Ryan so hopefully that Ryan laughs and goes back to jerking him off. He kisses his way down Jon's chest, flicking his tongue against Jon's nipples and nipping at the softness of his belly. When he reaches Jon's cock he doesn't mess around, just opens his mouth wide and takes him in as deep as he can. If Jon's groan and the tight flex of his hips is any indication, he must like it.

Ryan reaches down to cup Jon's balls and Jon spreads his legs wider, giving him more space. He takes it, lying on his stomach so he can suck Jon off and play with his balls.

"I have," Jon begins, cutting himself off with a moan. "I have something for slick, if... you want it right?" Ryan pulls off for a second to look at him. He takes in Jon's face, flushed and open and then down at his hard cock before looking even further down at the shadowed place between Jon's thighs.

"Yes," he tells him because there's no doubt in his mind that he wants that from Jon, none at all. Jon keeps his shaving kit next to his bed and apparently he keeps more than shaving cream and razors in there because he comes out with a half-empty tube of slick. "Expecting something?" he asks Jon and Jon laughs, blushing and Ryan goes back to sucking his cock.

He thinks he likes the way it feels on his tongue, likes the weight and width of it, thick enough that he can feel the way he has to stretch his mouth wider. As soon as he opens the slick, Jon spreads wider for him and Ryan has to concentrate not to laugh around Jon's dick. He spreads the lube on his fingers and gives Jon what he clearly wants, pressing in with one finger and then another.

"Ryan, fuck your _fingers_," Jon says, rocking down onto them and moaning loudly. Ryan twists them inside, crooking them up and is rewarded with a whimper from Jon. Ryan keeps pressing there, sucking hard around Jon's dick and isn't long before Jon comes, clenching around Jon's fingers.

Ryan pulls his fingers out and looks up at Jon. He's still flushed but now he has a lazy grin on his face, body gone lax from orgasm. "You're still gonna fuck me, right?" Jon asks him, still grinning, reaching down to cup Ryan's face.

Ryan turns his face into Jon's hand and then bites his thumb. "Turn over," he says and he's pleased when Jon's eyes go darker at his words.

Jon does as he says though, turning over onto his stomach and spreading his thighs again. It's not that Ryan hasn't looked at Jon's naked back before; he has, he'd even been caught doing it once. It's just different, seeing Jon like this, naked and spread out for him, all for him. He kisses across the freckles on Jon's shoulders and then scrapes his teeth down one side of his spine before biting at the curve of Jon's ass.

"Ryan," Jon whispers and Ryan kisses just above the cleft before spreading him open. Jon's hole is so small and pink. And he's still shiny from the lube but it doesn't stop Ryan from leaning in to press his mouth against his hole, kissing him there softly. The plastic-flavor of the lube sticks to his tongue but Jon shudders so Ryan does it again only this time he presses his tongue against him. Jon moans and Ryan doesn't stop, pointing his tongue to get a bit deeper, making Jon shake from it.

Ryan almost doesn't hear it the next time Jon asks for it. "Please," whispered so low from Jon's mouth, a begging, pleading sound. Ryan lifts up off of him, laying a kiss over the very center of his back before pulling back to fumble open his jeans. "Ryan, come on, please. Just like this," Jon tells him and when Ryan looks up he sees that Jon's watching him from over his shoulder. Ryan's jeans and underwear are down around his thighs and Jon looks like that's exactly what he wants right now.

"If that's what you want," Ryan says, grabbing the slick again so he can spread some on his cock. It doesn't feel like he needs it, he's been leaking precome almost since they started and all he really wants is to get _inside_ but he said he'd take care of Jon, so he takes the time. Jon spreads his legs even wider when Ryan moves into position behind him, back arching. Ryan knows Jon wants this, he does, but it makes it so much hotter to have Jon all but begging for it when Ryan slides into him.

He tries to go slow, tries to wait for Jon to be ready for him, but Jon doesn't want it. He rocks back hard onto Ryan, moaning loud enough for Ryan to feel it in his dick. "Fuck, Jon, careful," he says and Jon shakes his head.

"I want it," he says. "I'm good, I swear, just... please." He means it, Ryan can smell the truth in his words, can feel just how ready he is around his dick. So he gives him what he wants, rocking his hips forward and pulling Jon back hard. Jon's panting and his fingers keep slipping on the sheet so he's falling forward before he manages to get a better grip and hold himself up. The third time it happens, Ryan stretches out over Jon before he has a chance to get up again, stretches out and drops down on top of him.

Jon stills for a moment, body going tense but Ryan slides his hands down Jon's arms, down until his palms are around Jon's wrists. Then he grips tightly, pinning his arms to the bed and rocks his hips forward again. It's slower like this and deeper in a whole new way and Jon just moans brokenly and clenches around him. "Jon, fuck you feel so good, so fucking good."

Underneath him, Jon moans again and then he starts whimpering and moving. He twists his wrists in Ryan's grip and keeps wiggling his hips. It's not like he's trying to get away, just the opposite really, since his hips are wiggling back into each of Ryan's thrusts. It's driving Ryan crazy though. "_Jon_," he says, half growling and Jon stops for just a second before he starts up again. Ryan growls again and tightens his grip around Jon's wrists, hard enough to bruise and fucks into Jon as hard as he can.

Jon drops his head down to the bed and the _sounds_ he's making, low and almost painfully happy. "Ryan, Ryan Ryan," he's whispering and Ryan looks down at him at the stretch of his back, the mess of his hair and the nape of his neck, vulnerable and pale. Ryan leans up on his next thrust, leans in and sinks his teeth into Jon's nape, biting down hard.

It's like he sent an electrical charge through Jon because Jon cries out and shudders around him, clenching tight. It takes a moment for Ryan to realize he's coming, spilling on the sheets. It's the scent of Jon like that, the mix of sweat, come and contentment that sends Ryan over the edge as well.

"Jon," he says, once he can think again. He runs his tongue over the livid teeth marks over Jon's nape, not certain if he's doing it to soothe them or remind Jon that they're there. "Are you okay?"

Jon just laughs and pressed together like this, Ryan can feel it everywhere. "Yeah, Ryan, I'm... I'm fucking great."

Ryan nod, considering what to do next. He doesn't want to get up, doesn't want to pull out of Jon or stop holding him down but Jon's laying in his own come and it's only a matter of time before this gets incredibly uncomfortable for both of them. He rolls over, pulling out and trying to shove himself into the small strip of bed that Jon's not laying in. Jon turns over, like he's giving Ryan more room but all of the space he's giving up is the worst of the wet spot, so Ryan doesn't move.

"Thanks," Jon says, reaching out for Ryan's hand.

"Thanks?" Ryan asks, laughing and Jon laughs back. "Believe me, it was my pleasure." Ryan takes Jon's hand in his, frowning down at the bruising on his wrists. He maybe went a bit overboard there.

"I mean all of it," Jon tells him, looking down at his wrist as well. "Not just fucking me, though I liked that. I meant marking me and, and giving me exactly what I wanted."

"We," Ryan corrects. "Exactly what _we_ wanted."

"What happens now?" Jon asks and it's a difficult question. Ryan's still the Prince, still has his duties to his family but... he has a duty to Jon too now.

"Now we go home," Ryan tells him, leaning in to kiss him. "Together."

Jon grins when Ryan says home, leans into the kiss but then he pulls away. "We can switch beds first though, right?"

**Author's Note:**

> Written for playfullips as part of the drawn_to challenge. Thanks to riorhapsody and stealstheashes for looking this over for me and holding my hand while I was writing it. Additional thanks to angelsaves for helping me with the title and impertinence for help with the summary. Huge applause to saturnalia for the speedy beta and of course, my hats off to foxxcub for running this challenge in the first place.


End file.
